The Fox
by The Girl from Badlands
Summary: Detective James from Australia has joined Scotland Yard and is set on a new murder case. But when she meets Sherlock, her career takes a different turn. OCxSherlock I know, summary sucks, but the story is better, trust me.
1. Chapter 1

**I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK. IT BELONGS TO ITS RIGHTFUL OWNERS, NOT ME!**

**Edit: This was my second fic on here. Wow, this was….Okay, it needs a lot of grammar fixes. There may be a few story edits if I find things cringey. Anyways, enjoy.**

"You never said your middle name was Holly," Lestrade said to the new detective as he flipped through her file.

She turned her attention to the Detective Inspector and spoke, "When do people generally say their middle name? But yes it is, apparently my mother was a big fan of Breakfast at Tiffany's. I find that book quite...Boring. Bt then again, I did read it when I was an unenthusiastic twelve year old," The new detective rambled.

_Boring._ Lestrade's mind darted to the word that consulting detective Sherlock Holmes used frequently. He smiled to himself, "I think you'll like it here, Detective James."

"Please, just call me Tully." She told him, smiling. Detective Tully Holly James.

"Alright, Tully." He nodded, walking into the room. On the ground of the once peaceful apartment building in London was lying a female teenager. She was dead and ice cold, blood pooling around her and seeping into the carpet. Tully was used to this thing by now, but the shock never left her when she came to a scene.

With a sigh, she bent down to the body and noticed a business card in the pocket of her victim's jeans. The detective pulled it out carefully and read it, "The Fox?" She asked herself. The lettering was cut outs from magazines. Tully flipped over the card, and there was nothing, "A card from the murderer, perhaps?" She asked aloud.

Lestrade shook his head, "I don't think anyone is that stupid,"

"Maybe they got bored and decided to make it a game, that shows psychotic tendencies" She suggested.

"Perhaps our murderer is Sherlock," somebody joked.

Tully looked up to him, scowling, "Who are you?

"Anderson-"

"Right," Tully nodded, "Why does he have to make fun of such a brilliant mind?" Tully asked, turning to Lestrade

"Agreed, why does he have to make fun of my mind? It's petty Anderson," A new voice echoed throughout the hallway. Tully and Lestrade looked over to see consulting detective Sherlock Holmes. Behind him was a slightly shorter man wearing a plaid shirt and a dark brown jacket, hair in a mess from the wind outside, eyes accustomed to the scene before him. On the other hand, Sherlock was wearing a slightly bigger black coat with a scarf and the collar of his coat turned up, a pristine posture to his step and a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

Sherlock carefully studied the new detective's features: She was tall, with sandy blonde hair and rich brown eyes and a button nose. He made a deduction, "You're not from here because you have sunglasses in your pocket, therefore not used to the glare of the snow. Your cheeks and nose are slightly red, therefore not use to the cold. You have been in some kind of fight in the past judging by the scratch marks on your wristwatch, shall I go on?" He asked.

Tully smiled, getting up from the ground, "Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, I presume." She held out her hand, standing and walking over to him.

"An Australian, I would've guessed American if you were ignorant," He picked up, noticing the difference in her voice and shaking her hand.

She nodded politely, "I'll take that as a compliment," They pulled their hands away and Sherlock introduced John Watson.

"This is my acquaintance John Watson."

John stuck out his hand and Tully shook it, "Nice to meet you. Your blog is very interesting," She smiled.

"You read my blog?" John asked.

Tully nodded, "It's very interesting. So is your site, Sherlock," She added, looking over to Sherlock.

"Thank you," John said, "It's nice to know the people who read my blog."

Tully gave a nod and realized, "Well how rude of me, I haven't even given you two my name. I'm Detective Tully James." She said.

"Oh dear." Sherlock muttered, pushing past her and to Lestrade.

Tully watched him and she turned to John, "What's up with him?"

"He isn't on very good terms with most of the detectives here. They find him irritating and he finds them irritating in return. I think he fears you'll be the same," John explained.

"Pff. Me? The same as these guys?" She asked. She shook her head with a smile, "Right,"

Sherlock overhead this and nodded to himself, _good, a detective who isn't an arse._ He thought. He turned around to face the body and bent down to it, "Tully, come here," He beckoned.

Tully turned back to face Sherlock and the body and approached, "Yes?"

"See if you can find a phone or something on her," He told her. She took the card she found out of her pocket and gave it to him, "I found this earlier." She said, getting on her knees.

Sherlock studied the card and then put it in his pocket. Tully spotted an earbud in her left ear ad took it out carefully, tracing the wire to find an iPod. She took the iPod out and held the earbud to her ear and heard music, "She mustn't have heard the murderer approaching as she was listening to Dubstep, one of the loudest genres of music beside punk and rock." She noted, giving the device to Sherlock.

He noticed a pool of blood around the head of teenager, "Everyone quiet!" he shouted to the people in the room. He carefully looked the dead girl over again and stood.

"She was hit in the back of the head with a steel baseball bat, cracking her skull. The murderer must be good at sport to crack it that bad. She fell on the floor and the murderer leapt out onto the balcony and jumped onto the street below. The murder occurred at a dark time, most likely early morning. The girl was facing away from the balcony when the murdered entered, and she was about to go pick up that bag," he pointed to a plastic bag full of groceries in the corner, "Because she had left them at the door to switch on the television." He looked over to the television that had fallen flat on the floor.

"The murderer, after killing the young, had bumped into the television, causing it to fall over." Tully interjected. She continued, "They heard the footsteps of the person next door coming to check and he fled the scene," she hurried onto the balcony, "and they left this." She noted, picking up a piece of red and white cloth.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "Impressive for someone who has to work among these buffoons." He said, walking over.

"It comes from reading your site, Sherlock." She admitted.

"Thank you." He spoke. He turned back to the group, "I'm off home. John." He said, striding out the door.

"Bye, Tully." He called over his shoulder, not looking back at her.

"Bye."

And then Tully went back home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello and welcome to Chapter 2 of The Fox! Hope you enjoy! Remember, I don't own Sherlock!**

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><p><em>Finally<em> Tully thought with a smile. She was home for the day, and what a sight for her eyes it was. 221A, and to her knowledge, the flat just above Sherlock's. She had stayed in a hotel for the last couple of days while her stuff was being moved into the flat, and now everything was there. She opened the door with her key and saw Mrs Hudson, the kind landlady, coming downstairs. She smiled, "Hello, dear. Nice to see you once again."

Tully smiled, "Nice to see you too, Mrs Hudson. Finally my stuff has been moved in and now I can settle."

"Quite." She smiled. She called upstairs, "Sherlock! John! Come meet the new girl!"

Tully chuckled. _The looks on their faces will be priceless! _She thought. John headed down the stairs first, an unenthusiastic Sherlock following. John saw Tully and smiled, "You again! I didn't know you'd come to stay here!"

Sherlock finally noticed it was Tully. "Hello, again."

"Hi John, hi Sherlock." She smiled, giving them a wave. "Nice to see you two again."

"Oh! So you've already met? How lovely! Well, I'm off grocery shopping." Mrs Hudson smiled, walking out the door. Tully smiled, "Well, I'd better be heading back to my place. Pleasure seeing you two again." She smiled, pushing past them and scampering up to her room. She unlocked the door with a black iron key and walked in. The walls were covered in patterned purple and black wallpaper, and the floor covered with black carpet. Tully closed the door behind her and took off her black coat, hanging it on a hook at the door. She wore a gray turtleneck long sleeve with a royal blue tank top overtop, and a black tie, hidden under the neck of her shirt. She rubbed her hands against her black jeans and looked over to see her piano. Tully walked over and sat down in the seat, stroking the cold keys with her fingertips. She soon started to play something to calm herself down.

Sherlock was studying the card that was found on the teenager, trying to match it up to magazines. That's when he heard the piano playing from upstairs. Some song he didn't know, of course, but he was still intrigued by the melancholy tune. Tully was one of the few people that were close to Sherlock's level in deduction, and not commonplace like the others. Another he could perhaps relate to.

John heard the piano playing and smiled, "She's good, isn't she Sherlock?" he asked. Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts, "Oh, yes, she plays nicely." He remarked. Suddenly the playing stopped and they heard a rushing of feet. The noise stopped.

Tully looked at the piece of red and white cloth she had found at the crime scene, and noticed a stitch mark of purple thread. She carefully pulled it out of the cloth and put it in a small plastic seal bag, knowing it would help. Tully put the piece of cloth on her desk and exited her apartment and went down to Sherlock's. She knocked on the door and a few moments later, John answered it.

"Hi, Tully. Come in." He smiled, letting her in.

"Hi, John." She smiled, walking through the doorway. "Sherlock," She called. He turned to face her, "Yes?"

"I found this on the cloth." She told him, giving him the plastic seal bag.

"You took this from the other detectives?" He asked.

"Of course, they can't do anything." She stated plainly. Sherlock smiled, "Agreed."

"Besides, I've seen this thread before. I went to the store that stocks it. Hand made by a family. They keep a log book of purchases, so maybe his could lead to our murderer." She continued.

"How do you know it's that thread?" Sherlock asked her.

"They always put a dash of a darker shade of the colour in the thread. Like a trademark." Sherlock pulled a magnifying glass out of a drawer and looked at the thread. Among the lilac purple was a dark orchid like purple, "Good observations." He complimented.

"Thanks."

"Well, first thing in the morning that's where we're going." Sherlock announced.

"_We're_?" Tully asked.

"Yes, you're coming too; I don't want to have an intelligent person like you spending a day with those dull people. I hate their boring personalities."

"I don't think much of them either." She smiled.

"Glad we're on the same page." He smiled slightly.

"Well, I'd better go." She said, walking out of the apartment. "See ya, John. See ya, Sherlock." She called over her shoulder. Tully had started something she wouldn't get out of: A crush.

It was about 6:00 AM. Tully heard a knock at the door and stumbled out of bed, draping a dressing gown over her shoulders. She answered the door and her eyes widened to see Sherlock standing at the door, "I thought you'd be ready. It _is _first thing in the morning."

"Good morning to you too, Sherlock." She held her hand over her mouth as she yawned, "Where's John?"

"Still getting ready." He moaned.

"Well, give me about 7 minutes." She told him and closed the door. She went to have a quick shower, and dressed in roughly the same clothes as yesterday, except they were new. She pulled on her boots, her black coat and grabbed a messenger bag, putting the white and red cloth in the bag. She scampered out her apartment, locking it and going downstairs to see Sherlock waiting.

"5 minutes. Very good, you're taking less time than John." He remarked, looking at his watch. A moment later, John stumbled out the door, still putting one boot on. His foot finally slipped into the shoe and he stood on his two feet, "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes." Sherlock stated, going downstairs. Tully and John followed Sherlock downstairs and he hailed for a taxi. The trio leapt in, John sitting upfront with Tully and Sherlock in the back.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Thanks for reading and please review! I know that 221A probably doesn't exist but I wanted the flat to be above Sherlock's. So please, don't hate me for this!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello yet again! So this is about where the story really kicks off. Anyways, thanks for the reads and follows! And just to clarify, this happens during Season 2 (Obviously before Sherlock...Jumped.)**

The ride to the store wasn't too long. Half an hour at the most, but not too long at all. The cab pulled up a small store with a sky blue paint job and the trio hopped out, paid the driver and stood.

"So this is the place?" John asked.

"Yep." Tully answered. She heard her phone vibrate and picked it out of her pocket, answering it, "Hello?"

"Where are you, Detective James?" Lestrade asked rather angrily on the other side of the call.

"Lestrade! I-I can-" Tully stuttered before Sherlock took her phone and held it up to his ear, "She's with me." He said calmly. Lestrade sighed, "Why?"

"Because I needed her." He explained. Lestrade hung up, defeated and Sherlock gave the phone back to the new detective.

"Thanks, Sherlock." She thanked him. He just gave her a nod and walked into the store, again followed by John and Tully.

A short, young girl sat at the desk, twiddling her thumbs. She looked up and noticed the three walking through the door and she sat up, smoothing out her clothes. "Can I help you?" She asked as they came in.

"Yes," Sherlock said, approaching. He held up the bag of the thread and continued to ask, "Who bought this thread?" The girl took out a big red book and opened the pages, "Only 3 people have bought the thread so far, it's new."

"Well, who bought it?" Tully asked, coming closer. The girl read from the book, "Scarlett Peters, Lachlan Mill, and Emily Kallia."

"Perfect. Thank you." Tully told the girl. The trio strode outside, "Alright, now we just need to-" Tully started to say before her phone rang. She groaned and answered it, "Yes?" she hissed.

"The Fox has struck again." An unfamiliar voice told her through the phone. Tully panicked and the called hung up. Then she received another call, "Tully? It's Lestrade. There's another murder- wait, just put Sherlock on the phone." He told her.

"Yes." She answered and gave the phone to Sherlock, "It's Lestrade."

Sherlock took the phone and spoke, "We're solving a crime right now." He told Lestrade.

"I realize, but The Fox has murdered another teenage girl." He explained.

"Where?" Sherlock asked. Lestrade gave him the address and Sherlock hung up, "Alright, there's been another murder." He said excitedly, "Let's go." He cheered, hailing a cab.

"Is he always like this with murders?" Tully asked of John.

"Yes." He answered straight away as they got into the cab.

The trio arrived at the scene of the crime. Another teenage girl, dead and cold. Tully checked the time, "When did you find her here?" She asked Lestrade.

"Just ten minutes ago." He replied, looking over the teenager.

"At 2:00. Same time as yesterday." She mumbled to herself. Sherlock was looking around the room, looking for evidence. Tully spotted a black book in the corner of the room on a bookshelf, and went over to get it. She slid it off the bookshelf and opened up the pages before going to Lestrade, "Did you indentify the other girl?" She asked.

"Yes. Her name was Lillian Parte." He told her. Tully nodded and looked through the book for Lillian. She found Lillian right next to the girl that was dead on the floor, and then Tully smirked. She looked at the header for the page entitled 'Miss Pertridge's Academy for the Musically Gifted Graduating Class 2009'.

Tully noticed that the girls that had been murdered were at the start of the pictures of the girls of the book, and she smiled. She walked over to Sherlock, "Sherlock, I found this." She told him, giving him the book. He flipped through the pages as she continued, "The two girls went to the same academy thing. Looking around their rooms, they received a lot of awards. I suspect one of the jealous mothers or students are killing off the girls. Plus, I got a phone call from The Fox earlier. It sounded like an ageing voice, so I'm sure it's a jealous mother. This narrows our murderer down to the two females who bought the thread." She explained. Sherlock smiled, "Good deducing. You pick it up well." He told her. She blushed a little, "Thanks." _It means a lot coming from you_ she thought.

Sherlock could've started to deduce her actions, but he decided to leave her. "Well then, tomorrow we confront both the women. Before 2:00 of course." He told her.

"You noticed that too?" She asked.

"Of course, I _am_ the world's only consulting detective, after all." He smirked smugly.

"Help! I've been attacked!" Tully pounded her fist on the front door of Emily Kallia's home, blood dripping from her nose. A tall, young girl with blazing red hair opened the door and frowned, "Oh, come in dear!" she fretted, grabbing Tully's arm and tugging her inside. She had an Irish accent and thick red hair in a ponytail.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Ophelia." Tully answered quickly, not giving her real name.

"I'm Kayla. Nice to meet you." Kayla smiled, leading Tully into a bedroom. Kayla sat Tully on a chair and told her, "You stay here. My mum'll be home soon and she knows more first aid than I do. I don't think she'd mind you stayin' in her room for the while. I'll find something to help." Kayla told her, rushing out of Emily's bedroom and going to the bathroom.

Tully leapt up and grabbed a tissue for her nose before looking through the wardrobe. She saw, in the back corner, a red and white dress, with a tear at the bottom. Tully smirked, took a picture with her phone and closed the wardrobe doors, and noticed a sewing machine and the lilac thread on the table. Tully also noticed a picture of Emily, supposedly, with a young Kayla in front of an adoption home. Tully's mind filled with painful memories, but soon she heard footsteps and leapt up, going back to her seat.

"Oh, good. You found the tissues." Kayla smiled. Tully nodded, "Yes, I'm actually feeling much better."

"Are you sure?" Kayla asked. Tully nodded, "Positive. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kayla." Tully said, giving her a handshake and going out of the house.

The detective walked around a corner and saw Sherlock and John. She walked toward them, "It's definitely Emily. I met her daughter, Kayla, and I snooped around Emily's room. I saw the thread, a sewing machine and the dress." She told them, holding up her phone for the picture. Sherlock smirked, "Perfect. But wait, where was her mother?" Sherlock asked. Tully's phone rang yet again and she picked it up, "Hello?"

"Is Sherlock Holmes there?" the voice asked. Tully took the phone away from her ear and gave it to Sherlock, "It's for you."

He nodded and raised the phone to his ear, "Yes?"

"2:00 was inconvenient for me, darling. I've struck again. Nice chatting, Mr Holmes." The voice said.

**So what did you think? Please leave a review and thank you for reading! Hopefully he next chapter will be up soon! Love and cupcakes, IamPinkiePie **


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter will be done in POV's of Tully and Sherlock because I wanted to get their thoughts and emotions in more. So if you don't usually like POV, I apologize. But anyway, I don't own Sherlock; it belongs to its rightful owners. This chapter is just where Sherlock comforts Tully, so if you don't like this kind of friendship-slightly-romance type stuff, I apologize.**

**Tully's POV**

The crime scene was just like the two before it. Sherlock was determined to get Emily, but Lestrade had said sleep will help with the confrontation tomorrow. I couldn't agree more; I was tired and my feet were aching.

"Sherlock," I placed a hand on his shoulder, "I think it's best if you rest." I had the feeling he wanted to argue, but for some reason he didn't. John approached, "I agree."

Sherlock sighed and exited the crime scene and we all caught a cab home.

As we arrived at our home, Sherlock bid John and I good night and went to bed. I stood outside their apartment with John and looked over to him, "Is he...angry?"

"I think so. But he'll be over it in the morning, don't worry." John said, walking into his apartment. He turned back to me, "Night, Tully."

"Night, John." I said, turning to my right and walking upstairs and going to my apartment.

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><p><em>"<em>_Tully! Don't bruise the mangoes!" A young boy, about the age of 13, told a young me. I turned back to him, "Michael, I'm fine, I won't 'bruise the mangoes'. I am 12, after all." I said, mocking him. Michael rolled his eyes. "I may just be your friend but I'm older than you, therefore wiser."_

_"__Well then, you know how Miss Gulley made us take an IQ quiz?"_

_"__Yeah?"_

_"__What was your IQ?"_

_"__105, why?"_

_"__130." I smirked. Michael's jaw dropped. I was beating at the branches of a mango tree to get the ripe mangoes from heights I couldn't reach. "Heads up!" I shouted as a mango, ripe and juicy, plummeted to the ground, landing on the tin roof of a shed and rolling off, I caught it. The juices of the mango seeped out and a sweet smell filled the air. "Perfect."_

_Michael and I were the only two children left at the orphanage, and soon enough one would get adopted, and one would be left. _

_"__Tully! Someone wants to meet you!" Miss Gulley called out into the yard. I smiled and washed my hands at the tap, "Maybe today's my lucky day!"_

_"__Good luck, Tul." Michael said, saluting me in a childlike way. I saluted back and ran into the orphanage. _

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><p><em>"<em>_So, I heard you like science?" A tall man, hopefully my new father, asked._

_"__Oh, yes! I actually experimented on some rats once. They were dead, though. But I didn't kill them!" I explained nervously._

_"__Ok..." The man straightened up. "Do you like to read?"_

_"__Yes! I love spy books and books on crime and stuff. I want to be a detective!"_

_"__That's great!" _

_"__I also play piano. But I like to do experiments in my spare time a lot, but most people say I'm strange because of that. And that I say random things here and there. I never really fitted in anywhere. But I'm OK with it."_

_The man stood, "Listen, Tully, I'm sure you're a really lovely girl," he lied, "but you're a bit of a handful for my wife and I. I'm sorry."_

_I panicked, "No, no wait!" the man started to leave, "Please! No one will ever adopt me, please!"_

_"__Miss Gully, I had an interview with Michael a few days ago. Could you get up some adoption papers?"_

_"__Please! I'll be good! I won't do experiments! Just please don't leave me here!" I begged. The man ignored my pleas and started to write up some adoption papers. I ran upstairs to my room and locked myself inside; looking at a picture of my mother that Miss Gully had given me._

_"__Why does no one want me?"_

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><p>I woke up, a tear rolling down my cheek. It was dark outside and I shivered, goosebumps creeping up my arm. "Why did no one ever want me?" I asked myself. I never met my mother or my father. I've been alone or a lot of my life. But that's OK. I was lucky I didn't make an attachment to anyone, it would've been harder to say goodbye. But that feeling of being unwanted...It hurt me on the inside. I knew I was weird, but could no-one accept that? Course not. I cried, holding my head in my hands.<p>

**Sherlock's POV**

The sound of crying echoed throughout the building. I had woken up a little while ago to do some research, and I listened more to the crying. It was Tully, of course. As much as I wanted to continue, I couldn't help but feel _sorry_ for her. Why was I getting these absolutely unnecessary feelings? Why was she upset? I was going to find out. I exited the apartment and went up to 221A, my footsteps echoing throughout. I knocked on her door, "Tully?" I called. I heard rustling and Tully opened the door, her eyes glassy because of tears.

"Don't tell me nothing's wrong, because I heard your crying and you aren't smiling." I told her.

She sniffled, "Sorry that I woke you." She apologized timidly.

"I was up doing research anyway." I explained. I walked into her apartment and looked around, "You have a nice place." I remarked, sitting on a black Rochester 2 seater.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked of me.

"Figuring out why you're crying. Now, you woke up from a nightmare, correct?" I asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Nightmares are just figments of your imagination, Tully. You shouldn't cry over them." I told her with a chuckle.

"No, this nightmare was about something that happened in the past." She explained. I straightened up, "Oh? Well do go on."

She sighed and sat down next to me, "You have parents, right?" she asked me. I nodded as she continued, "Well, I never really _had_ parents before. I was an orphan. I was never adopted because no one...Well, no one _wanted _me. I was the unwanted child." She explained to me.

"I was too weird. I did experiments on dead rats, Sherlock."

"Oh...I see. But aren't we all a little strange in some way?" I asked of her.

"Tell them that. Sherlock, instead of a happy 18th birthday I was sent to find my own apartment. Only with time did people accept weirdness, and by that it was too late anyway. I'm unwanted." She sighed.

"Tully, just because people didn't want to adopt you doesn't mean you're still unwanted. Lestrade wants you on his detective team. Personally it would be nice if you could join John and I." I told her. She smiled and hugged me. I flinched and looked down at her, but I just patted her back. She needed o be comforted and I was the only person awake. Besides, it was a nice feeling of being hugged- what am I saying? Emotions do not bring a person strength and they are unnecessary. I pulled away, "Well, I'd better go." I told her, standing and exiting.

"Good night, Tully." I called over my shoulder.

**Tully's POV**

He allowed me to hug him. I felt somewhat safe in his arms, and I never wanted him to let go. But he did, and I wasn't surprised. Oh well, it's not like he feels anything for me anyway. I snuck back to bed and fell asleep.

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><p>The new day brought a new challenge. To confront Emily, and this time we all had to infiltrate her home, for me a second time. Sherlock had brought a butter knife with him in his pocket, and he drew it out of his pocket and slid it along his arm roughly, drawing blood. A part of the made up story, no doubt.<p>

"Alright, let's go." He said, walking around a corner. John and I followed, then ducking into a hedge in clear view of a window. When Sherlock needed us, he'd hold his hand to the window in a peace sign. The only thing left to do was wait.

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><p><strong>Ok, so this is probably the most uneventful chapter but I wanted to develop the romance part of this story. If you do like the romance and stuff I'm actually going to write Tully into a few Sherlock fanfics of mine, so be on the lookout if you do like her.<strong> **Anyways, thanks for reading and please review! Love and cupcakes, IamPinkiePie**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello and welcome to the last chapter of The Fox! I hope you've enjoyed reading this story, and a new one will hopefully be out soon! Anyways, enjoy! Remember, I don't own Sherlock. **

Sherlock pounded his fists on the door, "Hello? I've cut myself on a piece of glass!" He needed Kayla to answer the door. The fiery red head opened the door, "Here, come inside!" She took Sherlock inside and sat him down in the living room, "Wait here. Mum!" She called, jogging upstairs.

Sherlock waited for Emily, and she soon came downstairs. Emily was a pale lady with short brown hair, with a few gray hairs. She entered the living room and smirked, "Sherlock Holmes, I presume." Sherlock looked to her, "How did you get Tully's number?" he asked, his mind darting to his friend. He scolded himself.

"I heard through word of mouth she was working on my murder case. Found her number in the phone book, and next to it was her mobile." Emily said, sitting down.

"Why did you murder the girls?" He then asked.

"My first daughter, Grace, went to that school. She was five when she ran away after being teased by the more superior girls. Never saw her again. I was only doing it in vengeance of my daughter." She pulled out a dagger from her coat pocket, "And I'm prepared to dispose of anyone who gets in my way."

Sherlock stood and walked to the window, holding up the peace sign. This ruled out the theory that Emily might've been involved with the work of Moriarty, thank goodness. He saw John and Tully nod and he turned back to Emily, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

Meanwhile, John was leading Tully onto the front steps. She pulled out a gun.

"Why do you have a gun?" He asked.

"A girl can't be too careful, John." She answered. John tried the door handle, but it didn't work. Tully tried to open the door by force, pushing her side into the door. She winced, "That just hurt my side. John, stand out of way of the door knob." He nodded and stood out the way. She shot the wooden doorknob and the door opened ajar. She smiled, "That worked."

"C'mon, let's go." John said, walking inside. Tully followed closely and they rounded into the living room. Emily saw them and slung her arms around each of their necks. Sherlock panicked as they started to choke, "Just leave me alone and I won't choke them" Emily smirked evilly. John looked over at Tully and Tully looked back to him. He nodded and so did she. John knocked the knife out of Emily's hand and Tully jumped forward and kicked her in the stomach. Emily lost her grip on them as she took a step back and punched Tully in the stomach. John knocked Emily over, but she soon got back up. She grabbed her dagger, but Tully reacted quickly and punched her in the face, making Emily fall to the floor unconscious.

"Good, she's out." John remarked, dusting himself off. Tully massaged her knuckles and looked over to Sherlock, "You OK?" She asked.

"Yes, fine." He told her. Kayla tromped downstairs and walked into her living and saw her mother, "Mum? Mum! What did you do to her?!" She asked fiercely, going down to her mother's level on her knees. Tully looked over to Sherlock and he nodded. Tully approached Kayla, "Sweet heart, you're mother...Well, she killed 3 young girls." She explained. Kayla welled up in tears, "What? No. My mum wouldn't-"

"She did. I'm sorry, but she even admitted so." Tully placed a hand on Kayla's shoulder.

"What happens to me? Do I go back to the orphanage? What if no one adopts me?" Kayla asked of Tully. Tully felt her heart drop, "You do have to go back, but you're a lovely girl and I'm sure someone will adopt you."

"O...Ok." Kayla nodded. Emily stirred and Tully got Kayla up, "Lock yourself in your room and don't come out until we say so. Now go!" Kayla ran upstairs to her room and Emily stood.

"Now is about a good time to run." Sherlock suggested. The insane mother grabbed her dagger as the trio ran throughout the halls of the home.

"John, go left. Tully, to the right. I'll take the middle." Sherlock told them. Tully parted to the right while John ran to the left.

Tully had entered the kitchen, "Oh, great. What am I supposed to do? Hide in the fridge?" she asked herself sarcastically. She opened the fridge door to see it was empty except for the vegetables in the crisper. She shrugged and climbed in, "It was a good thing I wore warm clothes today." She said, closing the door.

John had entered the bathroom. Climbing into the bathroom and locking the door he lied down still and silent. Thank _goodness the taps aren't faulty_ he thought to himself. The tap started to drip cold water and John sighed _great, just great._

Sherlock had run to a dead end. He pushed his back against the wall as if trying to seep through it to get to freedom. Emily smirked, "I'll let you go if you breathe word of this no one."

"You really think I'd do that?" Sherlock asked. Emily shrugged, "Suit yourself." She held her dagger and edged it closer to him, but Sherlock quickly kicked it out of her hand. He jumped out of the way and it landed on her foot. She screamed and Sherlock pinned her.

"John!" Sherlock called. John leapt out of the bathtub and ran to where Sherlock was and Sherlock spoke, "As much as I hate them, call the police. Now." John nodded and went for the phone. Sherlock smiled, _great, he's safe._ He thought.

"Tully!" Sherlock called. Tully opened the door of the fridge and ran out, the coldness of the fridge evaporating from her. She came to where he was, "Yes?"

"Help me pin her." He told her. Tully nodded and came over, holding down her shoulders.

"She didn't hurt you, did she?" Tully asked of him. Sherlock looked over to her, "No, she didn't. Where did you hide anyway?"

"Well, I'd taken a right as you said, and I wound up in a kitchen. So I hid in the fridge." She explained. Sherlock chuckled, "Inventive, Tully."

The police soon arrived at the home. Lestrade ran in through the door with a pair of handcuffs. He handcuffed Emily, "You're under arrest, Emily." He told her. Emily growled as Lestrade took her outside. Sherlock watched on as Tully picked up her dagger, "I'll give this to them later." She remarked, putting it back on the ground.

"Wait, Sherlock, show me your arm." Tully asked. Sherlock held out his arm and she rolled up his sleeve. His arm was still bleeding from earlier and she sighed, "Oh dear." John came back to them, "Are we forgetting someone?" he asked. Tully panicked and ran upstairs to fetch Kayla.

Kayla was sitting with the nurses with a shock blanket on her shoulders and a water bottle in her hand. The trio looked on from afar from a bench they sat on and John remarked, "I'd better go see how she is." He said, walking over to her. Tully spoke, "Wait here." She went to a nurse and came back with a cup of cold water, bandages, a cloth and ointment.

"Roll up your sleeve." She told Sherlock. He reluctantly rolled up his sleeve to reveal his cut. She examined it, "Okay, it's not deep so it won't need stitches." She told him. She carefully poured the water over the cut and dried it with the cloth. Then, she applied some of the ointment. Sherlock winced, it stung. Tully tried calming, "Shh...Don't fret, you'll get used to it." She told him. Sherlock didn't reply, he just listened. He smiled softly as she applied the bandage and gave the ointment, "You'll have to apply this 3 times a day until the wound closes." She told him.

"Thank you." He uttered. Tully smiled and stood, helping him up.

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><p>It had been a day since solving the murder case. Tully walked downstairs from her apartment and to 221B, knocking on the door. John answered it, "Hello, Tully."<p>

"Hi John. How are you?" She asked kindly.

"Good thanks. I suspect you wanna chat with Sherlock?" he asked. She nodded and John let her in. Sherlock looked up to see Tully.

"I just wanted to say thanks for letting me work with you." She told him, "It was an honour." She said genuinely. She started to walk out the door.

"Tully?" Sherlock asked for her. She turned back, "Yes?"

"Maybe you'd like to join us?" he asked. She smiled, "Could I?"

"I wouldn't want an intelligent mind spoiled where you work. So yes." He told her.

"I'd like that." Tully smiled. "Yes, I'd like to join yourself and John."

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><p><strong>So that's it for The Fox! A new story with Sherlock, John and Tully will be out soon, so if you want to read that without looking through the endless amount of Sherlock fanfiction just follow me or just keep an eye out on my profile! Thanks for all the reads and follows! Love and cupcakes, IamPinkiePie<strong>


	6. Epilogue

**Hi anyone reading this.**

**Whew! It's been FOREVER since I've written for this story! But I thought this'd be a great opportunity to say that I've written a sequel to this which you can find on my profile (A New Case) and I've also written TRF in Tully's POV. It's still a work in progress but still. I also hope to do a fluff one shot series (hey, it's my story, *Loki voice* I DO WHAT I WANT), which you will find in the (hopefully) near future if you follow me as an author. So anyways, hope you enjoy this epilogue, and see yas.**

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><p><strong>Sherlock's POV<strong>

I looked out of the window as it rained heavily, the droplets of water dousing the ground in liquid. I cast a glance to the wall, which had maps of all different styles and sizes on it, and photographs of suspects and newspaper clippings and whatnot.

What would the first official case be now that Tully had joined John and I? Would it be a murder- no of course it would be a murder. I'd only choose a murder, murders were that much more fun to solve. The most elaborate plans were often murders.

It would be rather enjoyable to have Tully with John and I. The way she solved things with such curiosity, like a young child seeing the world for the first time. The way she deduced many things, albeit not as good as me, but she would get better. Ad she was rather good at finding hiding places – I could only imagine she would've won most rounds of hide and seek when she was at the orphanage.

I heard the door click open and a cold air blew in, and Tully walked in. "Can we talk?" She asked me.

I nodded, "Yes, please come in."

Tully walked in briskly, closing the door behind her with a click. "John's out, right?" She asked. I nodded again. "Good." She smiled.

"Oh, please, sit down." I told her, walking over to the couch. She sat down just as I sat down and turned to me.

"Well, I just came here to personally thank you for letting me join you and John." She told me, "I really do appreciate it. I mean, I've heard about your work for a while now and it interests me. The way you seem to understand how everything works, fitting the pieces together all so well." She remarked.

"Well it will be interesting, Tully. I mean, you obviously have understanding of these things and an interest in it, and you can deduce well. Well, for a beginner, you can get better." I told her truthfully.

"Oh yes, I know. I think working alongside you will improve that." She smiled. "And as I say that, I have a case to bring to you." She said, diving her hand into her messenger bag and bringing up a newspaper, "A murder in Whitechapel. Similar to the works of Jack the Ripper, it seems. The police are already sussing it out but I reckon we could solve it faster." She told me.

I smirked, "Yes, I think we could."


End file.
